The Birth of a Midwife
by QueenieLoreenie
Summary: A series of one-shot stories detailing how our favourite midwives found their calling. All set after the 2015 Christmas special and before the end of series 5.


**Hello all!** This is the first installment of a series of stories I have planned telling the tale of how our favourite midwives found their calling. I decided to start with one of my favourite characters, Sister Monica Joan. This chapter takes place shortly after the 2015 Christmas special, and is set out as a short conversation (without any dialogue tags or action) between Sister Monica Joan and Sister Evangelina.

I don't own Call the Midwife or any of the wonderful characters, and I hope my rusty fanfiction writing can do them justice.

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 **The Birth of a Midwife**

Chapter 1: Julia's Smile

"Sister Monica Joan… I'm not very good with apologies, but my behaviour to you earlier this week was not the way I should have treated my Sister in God. It was very wrong of me to snap at you the way I did."

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

"… I'm going to take that as apology accepted."

"There is nothing to forgive; I hold no ill will towards you, Sister Evangelina."

"I know it's sometimes been hard for us to see eye to eye… In truth, I suppose I've found you and your path in life hard to understand."

"We have all chosen the same calling… what could be easier to comprehend?"

"It's not the road you chose that confuses me, but the why. I know your relationship with your mother was… strained-"

"Indeed, but she is not why I chose to pursue midwifery nor, later, the religious life. My mother merely disapproved of my choices, but did not influence them."

"I don't mean to pry, Sister. I know it can be a difficult subject."

"You are not forcing a confidence, if that's your concern. In fact, there's a story I'd like to share with you, if you'd like to hear it. It might help you understand me a little better, and perhaps tarnish the rose-tinted view you have on my youth."

"I'd like to understand. Please, go on."

"I made the decision to become a midwife in 1905. I… wait. I must go back further if I am to tell the tale properly. I need to go back to the day I was born in 1882. You know, of course, the circumstances of my birth: that my parents were wealthy and lived in the estate you visited in the country.

What you do not know is the indifferent marriage into which I was birthed, nor the cold, unloving and unwilling hands of my mother into which I was placed. She had no care for me, no more than she had a care for my father. I thought her, in my youth, a creature incapable of love.

My first visitor, brought to my cotside, was not my father – he exploited any excuse to be away from my mother, even during her confinement. It was my sister, Julia."

"I didn't know that you had a sister… is this sister your nephew's mother?"

"Quite correct. It was from Julia that I knew the love of another human being. She and mother had always been polar opposites; where mother was cold and grim, Julia was warmth and light. Where mother was austere and mean-spirited, Julia was joy and kindness. Mother often favoured Julia, as much as she was capable of bestowing favour, as she looked very much like her in her youth. I was, and still am, too tall, too ungainly and too plain to ever attract much attention.

But Julia! Oh, even if I should have had a photograph here with me to show you, it could not have done her justice! She was elegant, dainty and beautiful, with hair like spun copper and a smile that could outshine the sun.

I think mother was disappointed by my reflection of father's appearance – I sense she had hoped for two little miniatures of herself to mould into perfect socialites, that she could show off at gatherings like trained poodles!"

"It's not fair for a mother to have a favourite. How awful it must have been for you as a child to know your sister was appreciated more."

"Sometimes my mother's rejection stung deeply, but whenever Julia would receive small gifts or freedoms which I was not bestowed, she always split half and half with me. Her love and care was a wonderful balm to my wounds, and I came not to feel wronged by my mother, only loved by my sister."

"You chose to see the good rather than the bad."

"Yes. As we grew older, Julia and I naturally developed different interests, but remained very close – as I was plain, and had no suitors, I invested my time in studies. I particularly enjoyed looking through my father's telescope and reading his bible. Mother would often scold me when nanny would find the bible in my room. You see, she thought a good knowledge of religion irrelevant to the task she deemed most important to a young woman's future; finding a good marriage match.

This is something she expected Julia to excel in, given her large dowry, remarkably handsome features and that she was very accomplished. But Julia was also very wise… and could be very wicked! If she had the slightest inkling that a suitor was more interested in her face and money than her personality, she would play his heart like a harp and then drop him in an instant.

Mother would get so cross, but Julia cared not. She only wanted to marry for love, and wasn't prepared to settle for any less… not like mother had."

"Was your mother's marriage arranged by the families?"

"Indeed. It is what I came to learn about my mother only later, and why I often feel so despondent that we never had the chance to reconcile, that her bitterness stemmed from a life not lived. She had ambitions and aspirations in her younger days, which she felt were snatched away by her unhappy match with my father. She could only see Julia and I as walking proof that her dreams had died.

I think, in many ways, it was not the social shame from my decision to go into midwifery that fractured our relationship so completely, but that she had to watch me lead the independent existence she had desired for herself once upon a time.

The only time I ever saw mother truly happy was when Julia came to her with the announcement that she would be getting married. Harry was a wonderful young gentleman; new money, handsome, and doted upon my sister. It was true love, that was easy to see.

Mother's sudden new occupation with helping to prepare the wedding was a gift for me also, as it meant I would be left to my own devices for much of the day, and Julia had assured me that there would always be a room prepared in her home should I want to visit… or perhaps even live! I was as excited as could be for her, but we weren't to know it was the beginning of the end."

"If this is too painful, you don't have to continue."

"No, I have started, so I shall finish. The wedding came and went, and was a truly wonderful affair. She settled into married life so easily, and she and Harry were in bliss. It wasn't long before, during a week-long visit I was making with them, that she announced that she was with child.

She expressed a joy, then, that I thought was beyond possible for such an event - I could not envision my mother ever delighting in the same news the way Julia did. For the nine months she carried her little child under her heart, I was her constant companion. I basked in the glow of her; I knew, then, that mothers are the closest to God, as Jozsef Mindszenty says. She was building something more magnificent than any cathedral; a vehicle for an immortal soul.

But, towards the end, she began to complain of her head. The doctor prescribed her some painkilling teas for her headaches, but when they started to accompany blurred vision and bouts of confusion we sent for him again."

"Toxaemia."

"The methods to save her weren't commonly known then as they are now, and the Doctor was at a loss of how to help her. The only course of action which had proved effective was to have a caesarean section, and she was taken in to have the surgery. She knew the dangers, of course, but she just said she would be happy to finally meet her child.

A little time later, the babe was brought out and placed in my arms, while his father waited most anxiously in the hall. I was told that the procedure had not been as successful as they had hoped, and they… they expected Julia to pass away before the day reached its zenith. Harry and I were invited to take the infant in to be with Julia in her final hours.

When I reached her bedside, she was as ill as she possibly could be, but she lived still. She was as she had always been; beautifully put together, downcast eyes and modest grace, and the only tell that she was about to leave us was the paling of her lovely face."

"Did she see the baby before she passed?"

"She was so very weak, so I arranged some pillows so that she might hold him without spending what little was left of her energies. And hold him she did. I had known sisterly love all my life, but I had never before seen motherly love… and it was the most beautiful sight I have seen before or since.

Julia's pains must have been great, but not an ounce of it showed through her smile. It seemed as if the jigsaw pieces of the universe had slotted into place, placing the babe into her arms. Her life had been leading to a beautiful, tragic conclusion, and it completed her.

I remember the words she spoke next as clearly as if they were bequeathed to me only yesterday, 'Our Lord moves in mysterious ways. It seems we're trading places, he and I… a life for a life.'

I held her hand with all my strength; I thought, perhaps, if I could hold on tight enough sheer human will could keep her alive. Of course, how was my resolve ever to compete with His? She looked down upon him one last time, and then she was gone… it was if someone had reached up and covered the light of day with a shroud, and all the happiness in the world had died with her.

At first, in the days after the funeral, I missed her so much I could barely breathe… I missed her like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Harry… well, he was never the same again, and he never remarried.

Our only joy came from young Anthony. As my sister had requested, I continued to live at her home… to care for the child and do what little I could for my brother-in-law's all-consuming grief."

"How long did you stay with Harry and Anthony?"

"A little over six months, before the gossip mill began that I might be making a bid for my sister's barely-cold marriage bed… my mother insisted I return home before rumour could ruin our reputations, though nothing untoward ever occurred.

It was on that first bleak night, back at the manor and missing little Anthony's cries so desperately it was all I could to not cry out myself, that the voice of God first came to me.

He whispered in my heart that many more women were in danger of sharing my sister's fate, simply because they had not the money to procure a decent midwife. There would be many more babies, like Anthony, who would never know their mother's love… and, unlike my nephew, wouldn't have the benefit of a fortune or a doting aunt's attentions to rely on.

I decided, laid in my bed, that I would do everything in my power to make sure that Julia's death stood for something. I vowed to God that I would go into training to be a midwife, and be damned to what my family thought.

I was 23, and it felt like my life had just begun again. I was renewed with the energies that He had given me.

I informed my mother of my decision then next day, and she replied that she wouldn't utter a word to me until I ceased considering such foolish notions… I became a midwife, as I vowed, and my mother and I never spoke again."

"And through all that you kept your faith?"

"My faith was, if anything, strengthened. As Julia has said, 'Our Lord moves in mysterious ways'. Her passing was what was meant to be and, through it, I found my place in the world."

"Do you ever… do you ever wish He'd found a different way of guiding you to your path?"

"That desire comes and goes as quickly as the wind; as soon as I think of my nephew's sunshine smile, I am reminded she is not gone forever. She and I will meet again in God's kingdom, as He intended all along. Until then, if keep performing the work he bestowed upon me, her precious sacrifice will not have been in vain."

"In that case, I'd say it was about time we found you an occupation! There's a very poorly premature baby who's in desperate need of a layette, if you fancy putting your knitting needles to use."

"Who am I to decline what is required of me… pink or blue?"

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I hope you enjoyed - please review with any comments, questions, constructive criticism, or ideas for who I should try next! I'll reply to any queries in the author's note at the beginning of the next chapter.

QueenieLoreenie


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